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The Rain

Forgive me. I wrote a poem.


I like the way it rains here.


I like how the clouds drift along the mountainsides,

playing hide-and-seek among the peaks and ridgelines.

I like how mankind is wrapped around nature here,

and not the other way around —

how it remains the dominant force, acquiescing to our presence

rather than submitting to it.

I feel as though in a moment, we might be swept aside by nature,

washed away,



I like the way it rains here.

It is not the gray sullenness of its cousin Lima — it is a joyful rain

full of promise and life,

falling from clouds that dance gleefully in from unseen valleys

like guests invited to a friendly gathering —

some sweeping through, leaving a glow of glittering jewels —

some lingering, filling the air with sweetness,

filling the streams with laughter.


It is a rain that reminds you of its purpose:

to make the Earth sing;

to make the crops grow;

to make the rivers run and shape the land for miles and millenia beyond.


I like the way the rain cleanses the already clean air,

elevating saints from the beatified.


I like the way it rains here.


2 Comments Post a comment
  1. Tina #

    Beautiful! I Love it! You should publish that one…somewhere… Poetry is really underrated. BTW Great use of the word acquiescing.

    January 15, 2013
    • en2e #

      Thank you, Tina! Hope some editors are into Peace Corps blogs…

      January 17, 2013

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